


What the Good Days Left Behind

by mavy1



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Plague, Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, Saving Each Other, Slow Burn, WE live in a society - THEY live in a post-society society, and bonding over said shenanigans, okay also just general shenanigans, plague and disease, then saving the world
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:21:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26225572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mavy1/pseuds/mavy1
Summary: “Show me your hands you rat bastard.”The figure raised their hands slowly, still as the hot summer air despite their situation, pulling off black leather gloves to reveal pale skin – and the accompanying unblemished nails.Sokka nodded his acknowledgement, but still kept his knife ready, tilting up his captive’s chin. Were it not for the tint of the mask and Sokka’s own goggles, they would be staring directly into one another’s eyes. Perhaps if they were, it would have kept Sokka from saying anything more.“Speak, then, if you want me to spare your life. If you can.”---It's been 13 years since the end of the world began. It's been 2 since its total collapse. How much longer can its survivors hold out? And how can they hope to save themselves?
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 114
Kudos: 228





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All things considered, I figured I ought to mention to prospective readers: while this fic does deal with an apocalyptic plague situations, and therefore there will be mentions and depictions of disease, they won't be the main focus. Partially because I know nothing about medicine, but mostly because it's not what I want to write about. But, I figured I should still include a disclaimer, and let you decide for yourselves if you're comfortable reading this.

The way the strangling heat that filled his throat and penetrated his skin made sweat drip down his chest and back, and gather at the backs of his knees, Sokka found he had to remind himself that a heat wave was normal for this time of year, and not a symptom of the end of the world. Or at least not _this_ end of the world.

The large respirator and accompanying goggles he wore didn’t help the situation much, either. The blue tint of the lenses, and the thin film of dust they gathered always made the world feel bizarre and alien. Like a bad film with too much heavy-handed editing. And true, very little of it resembled the world he had grown up in these days. But if he squinted, he could still remember what things had looked like before.

Judging by the burning on the back of his neck, he guessed it was getting to be late in the afternoon. He had been up before the sun this morning, but by the time they had made it to town it was already high in the sky. It just took longer now, traveling by bike or by foot, than it used to.

Luckily, the things they had been sent out for had been relatively easy to find, and with Katara’s help, it had been simple enough to strip them of their rightful places in their old society. In fact, normally such a simple trip would warrant the attendance of only one of the siblings, if they were recruited to go at all. But lately, things had been becoming more difficult. Parties were coming back bruised and battered, and often empty-handed. Apparently, some wily bandit in a lavish blue and white theater mask had been staging robberies in the area, and it had been decided that Sokka and Katara were the best equipped to handle themselves in such a situation. Besides, having people come home injured served no one. 

The ones who _had_ seen him called him the blue spirit. Sokka wasn’t sure if the robber had actually mentioned this name to them, or if they picked it up from the graffiti that had appeared tagging the surrounding buildings since he had last seen them – _beware the blue spirit_. He doubted, whoever he was, that the robber had put them there himself. That seemed rather counter-productive in his mind. But he also had a hard time believing their timely appearance was merely a coincidence.

Either way, so far Sokka and Katara had apparently managed to avoid a run-in with him. They had finished their collecting for the day without so much as seeing a single other person. That was becoming more common. And it worried him.

Now he walked beside his bike, in no real rush to return home, rather enjoying the peace and solitude the outside world offered – if he ignored the reason for it, anyways.

As they walked he spotted the imposing glass façade of a department store. Deciding to indulge a little, he nudged his sister’s arm, and she turned her own masked visage towards him. Having her attention, he nodded towards the store.

Weary but still willing, she sighed, “Alright, let’s check it out.”

There was no need to worry about how they would gain entry to the abandoned store as they approached – the glass doors and many of the windows had long since been pulverized. They stepped through one of these, pulling their bikes along with them. They knew better than to leave something so valuable unattended.

Inside it was dark. Places like these never seemed to see the value of windows, and subsequently the only light inside came from its open front. It streamed in in beams, lighting the dusty air in biased shafts which fell unceremoniously on the ruined interior. Most of the contents had been ruined or stolen by now, but it was always fun to look, all the same.

Sokka looked back at his sister, well aware that they only had so much time before they had to be back.

“Ten minutes,” he said,” then we’ll meet back here, okay?”

He began wandering the aisles almost lazily. If he pretended this was how stores were meant to be, and that shopping with a bat and a machete strapped to your body _just in case,_ and a mask covering nearly your entire face was normal, he could almost convince himself that nothing was wrong. True, many of the shelves had been stripped bare, likely raided during the population’s mad dash to the safety they believed they would find far from the big cities, then slowly picked over by the remaining stragglers like himself over the next few years. But there always seemed to be a few little treasures left behind with his name on them.

Brocken glass crunched beneath his feet as he perused the home goods section of the store with dismay. Apparently, someone had thought it prudent to smash most of its contents. He couldn’t really blame them, that did seem like fun. Still, he wished they’d left him a better selection.

In amongst the remains of a massacre of ceramic figurines, Sokka found a lone survivor – a small, golden snail with a clear crystal ball for a shell. He turned it over and spots the price tag, smiling to himself. These places had always overcharged for stupid stuff like these. But who was laughing now?

Two aisles over is what remained of the great number of fancy scented candles this place once had to offer. With some digging, he managed to unearth one still intact from the back of the shelves. The label read _Vanilla and Sugarcane,_ and he removed the lid, holding it up to his nose before he remembered the mask he wore. With a humorless chuckle and a shake of his head, he slipped his prizes into his bag.

As he rounded the corner into the next aisle, his well-trained ears pick out the sound of cracking glass just behind him. Before he can think twice, he had his bat in his hand. Whirling around, he swung blindly at the space the noise had come from.

Sokka felt the dull thud as his bat collided with hard bone and sinew, drawing a strangled yelp from his aggressor, and sending sharp vibration up his arms. The masked figure fell to the floor, giving Sokka just enough space to draw his knife. Pressing the flat of the blade against their throat, staring into the glazed black eyes of the eerie mask, he spoke.

“Show me your hands you rat bastard.”

The figure raised their hands slowly, still as the hot summer air despite their situation, pulling off black leather gloves to reveal pale skin – and the accompanying unblemished nails.

Sokka nodded his acknowledgement, but still kept his knife ready, tilting up his captive’s chin. Were it not for the tint of the mask and Sokka’s own goggles, they would be staring directly into one another’s eyes. Perhaps if they were, it would have kept Sokka from saying anything more.

“Speak, then, if you want me to spare your life. If you can.”

A hoarse, cruel chuckle was his answer, and the deep voice that accompanied it was rough and gravelly with disuse.

“You really don’t need to use that thing on me if you want me dead. Thanks to you, I’m probably already royally fucked.” As he spoke, he clutched his right knee protectively, the one Sokka had jut smashed in without mercy, and Sokka felt his stomach sink with dread. “So, why don’t you go ahead and leave me here to die, huh?”

It would be easy. So easy, just to leave him here, telling himself it’s what he deserved – after all, he had brought it on himself. And that would leave one less problem for everyone else.

Sokka lowered his knife. Who was he kidding?

“Katara!” His voice, muffled slightly by his mask, rang out steely and strange through the empty store. As he waited for her to find him, he took stock of the situation he now found himself in. Judging by the grotesque blue and while face that stared back at him, and the fact he had just attempted a rather brazen robbery, this was the thief the others had warned him about. A thief Sokka had thwarted, but evidently also crippled in the process.

Finally, Sokka heard footfalls nearby, and called out again.

“Sokka?” Katara queried nervously as she rounded the corner, stopping in her tracks. Finding her brother safe, she started towards him, only then noticing the figure lying at his feet.

“Shit.” She hissed.

“Yeah, no kidding.”

“Sokka, what did you _do?_ ” It doesn’t matter that Sokka can’t see her face through her mask. He can hear the disapproving glare, the jaw-dropping shock in her voice as plain as day.

“It’s not my fault, he snuck up on me!” Katara only shook her head as she pushed Sokka aside to get a closer look. She surveyed him for a moment, taking in the incriminating mask, the curled-up leg. He could tell she was looking for more than just that – the blackened fingernails, bruising around his wrists, the only joints she could see exposed, that would signal he had been infected.

“I checked him,” Sokka supplied, “he looks clean.”

Katara nodded, then bent to kneel down beside the stranger.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” he snarled when she tried to reach out to inspect the damage done. Katara pulled back slightly, letting out a weary sigh.

“Look, I get it, you’re angry. My dumbass brother just hit you with a baseball bat. But honest to god how could I possibly make this any worse for you?”

Though he still seemed unconvinced, he moved his hand away slowly, and Katara set to work.

“I think it’s dislocated,” she said after a minute. “It’s hard to know for sure without a closer examination, though, and I can’t do that here.”

Standing up, she turned towards Sokka, lingering with significance. He felt his stomach drop lead-heavy, understanding her intention as she looked back and forth between them both.

“Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me!” He whined.

Katara shrugged. “You did this. So, what you do about it is up to you I guess.”

“No, no way am I bringing this – this - vagabond _thief_ back with us!”

“In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re _all_ thieves these days. But fine. I’m sure he’ll be fine. I’m sure his knee will relocate on its own, that does happen sometimes. I’m sure he’ll be able to take perfect care of himself afterwards, and that there couldn’t possibly be anything more serious wrong with him. Or not. If you want to risk having another man’s death on your conscience that’s your choice.”

Sokka knew the game she was playing. He also knew that while she could pretend all she wanted not to care what he did, he would never hear the end of it if he decided to leave him behind.

“He is a _bad person_ , Katara! Do you really think it’s a good idea to bring him back with us?”

She shrugged again. “Up to you. But I really thought my big brother was better than that.”

Chewing his lip, Sokka began weighing his options, only to have his thoughts interrupted. “It’s getting late Sokka. We need to leave now if we’re going to make it back by sunset.”

Sokka groaned aloud. Boy, could she be a master manipulator when she wanted to be. He turned his attention back to the man who still lay at his feet.

“Can you stand?” He snapped.

“Not sure,” was the curt response. Sokka begrudgingly held out his own gloved hand, and the stranger took it, hauling himself to his feet, putting all is weight on his left, uninjured leg.

Gripping his forearm firmly, digging his fingers in with as much force as he could, Sokka glared into the empty blackness where his eyes should have been.

“I’m only going to ask this once, and if you want our help you had better answer me.” For whatever reason, Sokka thought if he knew one thing, just one thing about this person, maybe he could justify the risk he was about to take to himself.

“What’s your name?” The stranger began to clear his throat, but Sokka cut him off before he could say anything – “And, if you say ‘the Blue Spirit’ I swear to God I _will_ leave you here to die.”

A moments silence followed, thick with distrust and malice. Then –

“Zuko.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay this jumped into my head so strongly yesterday I had to start writing it. I woke up this morning having completely forgotten that, and was pretty surprised to open my laptop to a new fic.
> 
> Not sure what the update schedule for this will be like, since I'm just going back to school. Also not 100% sure where this will end up.


	2. Chapter 2

Uncomfortable.

If he were trying to be succinct, maybe that would be the appropriate word. And an _incredible_ understatement.

Zuko made the long, bumpy ride back to Sokka and Katara’s home on the back of Sokka’s bike. If the awkward accommodations and sweat-glued-dust that clung to his skin weren’t bad enough, there was the matter of his leg, which felt as though it took a fresh blow with each pothole and crack in the disheveled roads. And that, not trusting himself to keep his own balance in his distracted state, he was forced to cling to the very person who had been the cause of his misery in the first place.

Although they had encountered one another on the edge of town, some second-rate suburban strip mall, it still took hours of hard riding to reach their journey’s end. At first it was bearable. But when they left the relative comfort of the paved rural roads in favor of dirt and gravel ones in ill repair, things got a lot more difficult. And painful. Not to mention slower. With the added weight of both their scavenging haul and his passenger, Sokka began to struggle.

“You know, you could just leave me here. If this is too hard for you. I’m sure no one could say you didn’t do your due diligence by now.”

“Shut up. I didn’t drive you all the way out here just to have you die on my doorstep.” Sokka huffed.

When Zuko, confused, didn’t respond, Sokka continued. “We passed the third road from the highway a few minutes ago. That’s the six-mile mark. We’ll be home soon.”

Zuko got the impression that normally such a journey would have been a lot quicker because, when they reached an old chain link fence maybe ten minutes later, Katara was waiting for them anxiously. Spotting them, she pulled a small key on a chain from around her neck, fumbling with the padlock on the gate that bared their way.

“Come on Sokka, it’s nearly dark! You know no one gets let in after sundown, and they’re not going to make an exception for us just because you had to go and get into a spat with a stranger!”

Sokka didn’t respond, just peddled past her as she closed the gate behind them. Soon Zuko could see the dark forms of several large buildings in the distance. A few of their windows were dimly lit, but otherwise there was no indication of life. They were the only things stirring.

They pulled their bikes up to a slightly rusted water pump just beyond the reach of the welcoming light that escaping through the windows, which Katara began to work until a steady stream of glistening dark water splashed at her feet. Keeling beside her, Sokka pulled a small bar of soap from a metal tin he had procured from his pack. Rolling up his sleeves, he scrubbed furiously at his exposed skin, repeating the exercise several times before handing the soap to Katara, who took it and washed in turn. When she had finished, she handed it to Zuko wordlessly, who followed their lead. Regardless of how he felt about them, he wasn’t about to go putting anyone at risk unnecessarily.

A final, mercifully short, ride brought them up to a side door in the courtyard’s largest building. Up close, Zuko could see the old red bricks and grey mortar that made up its walls. It had been dressed up by the addition of a peaked roof and several large pillars at its front, but Zuko could tell that, while it was almost certainly old enough to be drafty and have a great deal of creaky floorboards, it was definitely not old enough to be truly interesting.

Sokka and Katara pulled their bikes up beside several others, and Sokka helped Zuko off his bike. He considered Zuko for a moment, and Zuko wondered briefly if he was second guessing his decision. Then, Sokka pulled Zuko’s mask from his face, shoving it roughly into his chest.

“You had better put that thing away before we get inside if you want any chance of being allowed to stay. Not everyone here is as friendly as we are.”

Zuko scoffed. “Because you’re the pinnacle of politeness and courtesy.”

“Exactly.” Sokka responded flatly.

Zuko thought he probably had a point. They had had knowledge of him. Which meant Zuko had probably encountered – and yes, stollen from – someone in their ranks before. And if Sokka and Katara were the best they had to offer, he should probably air on the side of caution. He shoved his mask hastily into his bag, and Sokka pulled his arm over he shoulders, helping him to the door.

Their knock on the door was followed soon after by the sound of the turning of a deadbolt, but they waited a few minutes before letting themselves in. Inside, they found themselves in a nearly empty room. Whoever had let them in had not remained to greet them. But, Zuko realized, that was probably exactly the point.

Besides themselves, the only things in the room were a few folding chairs and an old white plastic table, on which were a few bottles of water, several neatly folded blankets, and red canvas bag, the contents of which Zuko could not decern.

Sokka deposited Zuko into one of the chairs and pulled his mask and goggles from his face, tossing them onto the table. This allowed Zuko to make two discoveries. The first was that Sokka looked to be about his own age. He wasn’t entirely sure why he hadn’t expected that, but for some reason the idea that, if things were a little more normal, he and Sokka might have attended school together, worked the same summer job, encountered one another even in passing at the mall with their friends and sisters, seemed almost unbelievably strange. The second thing was that, in addition to being completely insufferable, Sokka was also, apparently, totally, unbearably handsome. Because _of course_ he was.

Zuko watched with rapt attention as Sokka let down his hair from its tidy top knot, pulling his fingers through the long strands and shaking it out, seething all the while. When he had finished his preening, he turned his attention to the red bag on the table. He unzipped it, pulling out three small clear plastic cups from inside. From what Zuko could see peaking out over the top of the bag, it looked to be filled with first aid and medical supplies.

“Spit.” Sokka commanded, holding one of the little cups he had just retrieved out in front of Zuko.

Zuko had half a mind to do exactly that. Directly into Sokka’s face. But, as satisfying as it would be to defile him like that, he doubted very much he could get away with it. Especially with the way Sokka’s glare was cutting into him as if he could tell exactly what he was thinking. So instead he did as he was told, having to be satisfied with staring daggers at one another instead.

Sokka gave the second cup to Katara, who by now had discarded her own mask, keeping the last for himself. When finished with them, Sokka labelled and lidded each in turn, then slipped them through what may have once been a mail slot in the door that barred them from the interior of the building. As he did, Katara kneeled down beside Zuko, rolled up the leg of his pants, and began a more careful and thorough investigation of his injuries that lasted several painfully long minutes.

“Well?” He demanded at last.

“I’m sure it’s dislocated. But I’d really like to be able do an x-ray on this before I did anything to it.”

“Yeah I’m sure you would, but that’s not going to happen,” Sokka interjected from where he stood leaning against the wall, having helped himself to the provided water.

“Well I’d at least like a second opinion, but I guess – “

“Are you trying to tell me you’re the only person here who can do anything about this, and you’re not even confident that you _can?_ ” Zuko snapped.

“It’s not that.” She countered irritably. “It’s just that I’d really like to make sure there’s nothing else _seriously wrong with you_ that I can’t see. But it’s really best if I fix this up sooner rather than later. It’s only going to be worse for you the longer we wait.”

Zuko suddenly realized what she was getting at. “Why? How long are we going to be stuck in here?”

Sokka shrugged. “A few hours probably. But they might leave us in here a full day. Just depends on how soon they can get to testing us really.”

“Are you kidding me? If we were infected, we’d already be showing symptoms!”

He shrugged again. “Better safe than sorry I guess.”

Katara sighed. “Look. It’s up to you. But I really think you should just let me take care of this.”

Zuko considered his options, weighing the pain in his knee against the possibility of making that damage worse. “Do you even know what you’re doing?”

“Well, I was a med student before the entire world literally went to hell. And yeah, I have done this before. So, take it or leave it, but right now I’m your best, and frankly, _only_ , option.” Katara said rather matter-of-factly, apparently having had enough of Zuko’s disrespectful attitude.

Zuko hesitate a moment longer. But now that he had been resting a while, the pain in his leg was becoming harder and harder to ignore, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could continue to do so.

“Fine. Let’s just get this over with.”

Katara nodded, moving closer beside him to get herself into position. She reached out for his leg, but Zuko winced before she could even make contact, instinctively drawing his leg in towards himself. Realizing what he had done, he tried to recover his composure, extending his leg once more and crossing his arms over his chest. Katara didn’t immediately try again, instead shooting her brother a veiled look. Though Zuko couldn’t read it, Sokka seemed to understand, because he nodded curtly.

Sokka stepped towards Zuko, hands resting lightly on his hips, where Zuko’s eyes caught briefly, and unwillingly.

“Hey, Zuko was it?” He gestured vaguely towards him as he asked.

“Yes…” Zuko replied hesitantly.

“Right, right.” Sokka nodded, his voice thoughtful. “Well, Zuko, consider yourself distracted.”

His next movement was sudden and deliberate, and Zuko felt a sharp, searing pain on the right side of his face as Sokka’s open palm made hard contact with his cheek, pulling a loud yelp from him against his will. Eyes watering, his hand flew to the abused cheek, and he fixed Sokka with a steely glare.

“Ow, what the fu – “

His protests were cut short by the sudden intrusion of an excruciating pain in his knee as Katara swiftly reset it, and the subsequent litany of curses that streamed from him in their place.

“You’re fucking _sadistic,_ you know that?” he hissed between clenched teeth, at neither sibling in particular.

“Only for you, princess,” Sokka bit back, smirking wickedly.

“Okay that’s enough,” Katara snapped, shooting her brother a glare. “Look, I’m sorry about all this, but it had to be done. And it’s not like you should expect the red-carpet treatment from us or anything.”

“Oh, you’re right, I’m sorry. I’m _so grateful_ to you for bashing in my knee and being charitable enough to fix it afterwards.”

That retort earned Zuko an obscene gesture from Sokka, which in turn earned him a smack from his sister.

After that, the room fell quiet. No one seemed willing to continue to incur the wrath of the others. Zuko slipped slowly onto the floor, leaning his head back against his chair, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to shut out the aching throb in his leg. Though he could move it feely again, he had by no means escaped unscathed.

How long they sat together in silence he couldn’t say. At some point he heard rather than saw as Sokka moved to the door and knocked on it, exchanging a few quiet words in low voices with whoever was on the other side, presumably through the same slot they had used to pass things through before. He wasn’t feeling like himself, was drifting to someplace neither waking nor sleeping, when he was broken from his state as something cold fell into his lap. He opened his eyes to see a bag of ice laying on his leg, and Sokka moving to slouch against the wall on the opposite side of the room, apparently paying Zuko no mind as he pulled a battered book from his bag and began to read.

Zuko bent his left leg to prop his knee up on its ankle, repositioning the ice to lay over his injury. In truth, he really _was_ grateful to them. He knew there likely weren’t many people left around who would have shown him the same mercy. But he could never admit that. He knew letting his guard down was about the last thing he should do.

Still, despite himself, he was interested in his new companions. At first, he tried to hide the glances he stole of them from the corner of his eye. But eventually, Katara seemed to nod off against her brother’s shoulder, and Sokka never looked up from where he frowned slightly at his book, either having forgotten their guest, or doing a very good job pretending to. Zuko took the opportunity to give himself a better look.

He probably wouldn’t have been able to tell who was older if Katara hadn’t mentioned it. He wagered they couldn’t be more than a few years apart, and their family resemblance was obvious in the wide flare of their noses and similar brown hues of their skin and hair, not to mention the practiced ease of their bickering.

Katara had let her hair down at some point since their return, which now fell across her face and over her shoulders as she dozed quietly. Her sleek hair, clear skin, and well-kept clothes, neatly mended in places, told Zuko that even now, she took excellent care of herself. This confirmed to Zuko the suspicions he had formed based on the way she had conducted herself earlier – that she was either incredibly naive, in intense denial, or worse – some kind of eternal optimist, who managed to maintain her hard-fought hope for the future despite what they had all been through. Zuko didn’t really want or care to find out which.

Sokka was harder to read. To Zuko, he seemed not much different than anyone else he’d been unfortunate enough to meet as of late. Zuko suspected any kindness he had been shown was for Katara’s benefit, and not necessarily intrinsic to his nature. But that in and of itself gave him a clue – evidently Sokka’s loyalty and care for her was stronger than what Zuko suspected to be his own inherent inclination towards self-preservation and borderline chauvinistic tendencies. That seemed his type. Before all this, Zuko would have taken his standoffish nature as something of a challenge, one he would happily rise to, to break and conquer one way or another. Given the allure of Sokka’s sharp jawline, the perfect pout he would call pretty if it weren’t so infuriating, the strength he knew from experience was concealed by the stiff fabric of his clothes, preferably _another_. But these days, he couldn’t really fault him for his sour attitude. And he wouldn’t dare try something so reckless.

Without warning, the door flew open.

Sokka was on his feet instantly, with Katara only a moment behind. Zuko recognized the man who walked through the doorway as their father. The resemblance was uncanny, though he had a few inches on Sokka, and his comparative maturity showed both in the strength the years had lent his body as well as his distinct air of authority – his tall, straight posture and piercing gaze made Zuko rather hesitant to disrespect him the way he had done his son.

“Guess our tests must have come back clean,” Sokka muttered to Katara, just loud enough to be overheard.

Their father scanned the room quickly, his gaze catching on Zuko before turning back to his children, where Sokka had now begun to try to slip quietly past him unnoticed.

“Sokka, what is the meaning of this?” He demanded, gesturing broadly at Zuko.

Sokka froze. An expression reminiscent of a deer in headlights appeared briefly on his face, but he recovered his composure quickly.

“What makes you think this is _my_ fault?”

“Well for one thing, _you’re_ the one trying to escape.” His father replied lamely, looking almost amused.

“Alright, fine! But before you say anything – ” Sokka stopped short, sputtering and stammering for something to say, some excuse or explanation that would satisfy his father. But he came up empty. “Actually, you know what, maybe you _should_ go first.”

His father sighed, turning instead to Katara. “What happened out there?”

Katara hesitated, clearly uncertain of whether she should rat out her brother or not. She, too failed to respond.

“Look, will someone please just tell me what’s going on? Who is this? What is he doing here? What happened out there today?” Their father cried, looking desperately between his two children.

“Okay, okay! Look, while we were out today this guy –” Sokka jerked his thumb in Zuko’s direction - “snuck up behind me. He startled me and… I hit him. I guess I hurt him pretty bad so, we thought it would be best to bring him back here and fix him up. I think he was probably trying to rob me, but that shouldn’t matter. I should have been more careful. I’m sorry.” Sokka hung his head, careful to meet no one’s eyes. He may not have shown it before, but evidently, he _was_ ashamed of his actions.

His father lifted a hand, and Zuko flinched, but he only laid it on his son’s shoulder. “Sokka.” He said. “Are _you_ alright?”

“I – yeah, I think so, yeah.”

His father sighed, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Okay. Good. The rest we can deal with then.”

He turned his attention on Zuko, fixing him with a penetrating stare. “So. I guess, since my kids are playing so ignorant, I’d better ask you who you are myself then.”

Zuko swallowed hard. “My name’s Zuko.” He doubted he could find it in himself to lie just then. But there was a difference, he thought, between lying and not revealing _all_ your cards.

“Well Zuko, my name is Hakoda. And if you want to stay here, it’s me you’ll have to win over.” Zuko nodded curtly. Hakoda seemed reasonable enough. But when he reached for Zuko’s bag, checking its contents to find the incriminating mask within, a thin scowl appeared on his face, and Zuko’s stomach knotted tightly.

“Hmm… This could certainly cause some problems.”

“Look, I don’t have to stay here. Your daughter’s already fixed me up, so I’m sure I could make my own way back to town.” Zuko made to stand and let himself out. The gate, he knew, was locked. But he hadn’t seen any barbed wire at the top of the fence, so he was fairly certain he could climb it. And even if there was, he’d rather deal with that than have to navigate this place, where it seemed everyone already knew him. And had it out for him.

“Now hang on,” Katara interjected, holding her hand out in front of him to signal him to stay down. “I may have reset your knee but you’re in no condition to travel. That’ll take _weeks_ to heal, and until then you really shouldn’t move around too much. You _definitely_ wouldn’t make it all the way back to wherever it is you came from on your own.”

Hakoda was quiet for a moment, turning Zuko’s mask over in his hands, considering it as well as his daughter’s words. 

“Sokka? What do you think?”

Sokka shrugged. “I’d just as soon kick him out, honestly. But I did drag him all the way back here on the back of my bike, which _was_ a lot of work, and I guess I’d rather not have wasted my efforts.”

Hakoda nodded, straightening and looking at his son, having made his decision.

“It’s settled then. He can stay with you.”

“ _What?_ ” Sokka yelped. “No way in _hell_ that’s happening!”

His father smirked coolly.

“You’re the one who brought home a stray, Sokka. So you get be the one to house train him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! I've decided that going forward I'm going to try and update maybe every other week. It's fairly likely that school will kick my ass at some point though, so I make no promises.


	3. Chapter 3

While Sokka tried to bargain with his father for his freedom, to no avail, Katara retrieved first a bandage to wrap Zuko’s knee and a crutch to help him walk, then after a somewhat longer absence, a bed roll and pillow. When she returned and still her family showed no signs of resolving their dispute, she took the matter into her own hands.

“Alright, enough!” She barked, inserting herself between the two men. She turned to Sokka, her gaze and voice icy. “Sokka, why don’t you try taking responsibility for your actions once and a while? And quit being such a baby about it while you’re at it.”

“And as for _you_ -” Katara whirled around, turning her glare on Zuko. “Keep your weight off that leg. I will have absolutely _no_ sympathy for you if you fail to follow my _very simple_ directions and end up with a permanently fucked up knee, understand?”

“I, uh – Yes… ma’am?” Zuko stammered, startled and legitimately intimidated by her sudden change in demeanor.

Katara rolled her eyes slightly, but nodded all the same. She turned back to her brother, instructing him to bring Zuko to her in the morning to be checked up on before dismissing herself, Leaving Sokka and Zuko alone. Apparently, Hakoda had used his daughter as a distraction and had managed to slip away quietly, leaving no more room for argument.

For one long moment, all Sokka did was glare at Zuko in disgust and disbelief.

_“Ma’am?”_

Zuko felt his shoulders relax slightly, realizing suddenly how tense he had been. He was almost amused by Sokka’s choice of bone to pick.

“Hey, I’m _a lot_ more afraid of your sister than I am of you.” He responded drying, though it was indeed the truth.

Sokka scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest in indignation. But Zuko could still discern a flush rising in his cheeks as he became suddenly very interested in the floor.

“…Fair enough.” He muttered after a moment of bitter consideration.

There was nothing left to do but sit and stew in the uncomfortable situation they now found themselves in. Zuko caught a flash of white teeth as Sokka chewed his bottom lip, riding out the wave of awkward silence that had settled between them. Eventually, he sighed, raised his hands, and dropped them against his thighs in resignation with a quiet slap.

“Well… Come on then.” He turned to the door, letting them out into the hallway beyond, gesturing for Zuko to follow. Apparently, he had decided to simply bypass any attempt to make amends.

At a complete loss for what else he could do, Zuko followed him obediently.

Sokka led him through the adjacent room, which appeared to be some kind of mass trash receptacle, and up a nearby staircase. Though the trouble Zuko had on the stairs was clearly an annoyance to him, he said nothing about it. Perhaps because he felt responsible. Or maybe he simply didn’t feel up to arguing anymore. Once up the stairs they made their way down the hall and rounded the corner, where Sokka let them into a small, dark room. The light that streamed in from the hall illuminated the tiny space easily. Inside, the walls to the left and right were lined with shelves, with several of the lowest shelves on the right side clearly having been pried off to make room for the small cot that now occupied the space. 

“ _This_ is your room?”

“Yes, _I sleep in a broom closet_.” Sokka snapped irritably as he shoved Zuko roughly inside and closed the door behind them. “Do you want to know _why_ I sleep in a broom closet? Because while it may lack windows, and be incredibly cramped, and yes, I did have to train myself not to hit my head on the shelving when I get up in the mornings, up until _this moment_ , I have had to share my space with no one. Everyone else here has roommates, but for two years I managed to maintain just a tiny sliver of blissful solitude and sanity. Except now _you’re_ here. So, thanks for that. Really.”

Zuko could only blink back at the dark space were Sokka stood. He didn’t really feel like apologizing for something that was in no way his fault. Or his idea.

He heard Sokka sigh and the thump of his bag as he dropped it onto his bed. Slowly, Zuko’s eyes adjusted to the darkness he had been so unceremoniously cloaked in as if a bag had been thrown over his head. The sliver of light that bled beneath the door was just enough for him to make out his surroundings.

A single, dusty lightbulb hung from the ceiling, a short length of sting dangling pathetically beside it to function as its switch. I must have been burnt out, though, since Sokka made no attempt to turn it on. Sokka’s cot was, in itself, rather pitiful, but it had been carefully made since its last use, with what looked to be a meticulously hand-crafted, well-loved midnight blue and white quilt drawn up over the plump pillow at its head. Beside the bed a large bucket had been overturned to form something of a table, whose surface was crowded by a flashlight, a picture frame which lacked the tell-tale glare of light reflecting off its glass, indicating a lack thereof, a small triangle of metal Zuko couldn’t place, and a chipped ceramic mug with a smiling cartoon sun that almost felt like it was mocking him. Zuko’s view of these was blocked briefly when Sokka stepped in front of him to add his newest treasures to the already heavy-laden shelves that hung opposite his bed. The little snail and candle joined the assortment of other knick knacks Sokka must have collected on previous trips. What Zuko could make out included a small jar of pennies, a few which still glinted in the low light, tough most were green with coppery rust, some unassuming but strangely lumpy rocks and glittery stones, various glossy figurines of a number of different animals – Sokka’s own personal little zoo - several small decorative boxes encrusted with colourful mosaic tiles or made of richly coloured stained glass or smooth, satiny-finished wood, a few charming miniature instruments, and numerous key chains, only some of which were attached to actual keys. There were other things too, pushed back on their shelves to make room for the ever growing hoard, which Zuko couldn’t quite make out. Sokka removed the lid from his candle, giving it an experimental sniff before placing it on its shelf. He then sat on his bed and began to untie his boots. Above his head Zuko could now spot a few articles of well-worn clothing, neatly folded and stacked. On the wall opposite the door hung a calendar now two years out of date. It was turned to the month of April, and displayed an image of a lonesome yet lovely landscape painted in oils – open water, baren rocks, a single tree twisting in the wind- Zuko could almost hear the groan of it’s gnarled trunk, the haunted howling of the violent gale; Zuko actually thought he recognized. The tiny, stuffy room was in fact quite comfortable, almost homey. And for a moment, Zuko found he was charmed despite himself. Then he remembered who these things, this space, belonged to, and schooled his thoughts accordingly.

“You can sleep down there.” While Zuko had been examining his new gilded cage, Sokka had pulled off his shirt and pants in favour of a pair of pajamas and rolled beneath the covers on his bed. He was now gesturing at the space beneath the selves on the left side of the room. “Maybe we can get a cot in here for you, but definitely not tonight.”

Zuko unrolled his bed roll in the space Sokka had indicated. There were a few feet of space between the floor and the shelves above, and while he doubted it would be particularly comfortable, it would do well enough. At least until he could get out of here. Which he planned on doing soon.

He laid down and tried his best to fall asleep. But not only was the ground hard and the pain in his knee returning, but beside him he could here the springs of Sokka’s cot squeaking slightly under his incessant fidgeting.

“Could you _please_ just shut up and go to sleep? I don’t know about _you_ , but I have had a _very_ long day.”

He heard Sokka laugh coldly, no hint of actual amusement in his voice. “Not Fucking likely.”

“What do you think I’m going to try and like, murder you in your sleep or something?” Zuko really was too tired to deal with this shit.

“I don’t know. Maybe. How could I possibly know you _wouldn’t_ try something like that?”

Zuko sighed heavily. “Look, what could I possibly have to gain by trying something so stupid? I highly doubt I could just wander out of here after killing who _appears_ to be the son of whoever is in charge here – whatever _here_ is. And besides, your sister was right. I’d never make it back on my own.” As loathsome as it was to admit, as he said it out loud, he knew it was true. For better or worse, he was stuck here.

Sokka produced no response, but after several long, tense minutes, Zuko heard one final squeal of springs as Sokka turned over and settled in for the night. Eventually, Zuko heard his breathing even out, his long, measured breaths the only disturbance of the still, dry air. Zuko waited. Waited for some kind of storm-breaking thunderclap to shatter the silence, feeling as if he and Sokka had somehow had the misfortune of being trapped in a bomb shelter with a rabid dog, each thinking the other the dog, and themselves the civilized, put-upon unfortunate soul now waiting for it to strike. But nothing came. And after long hours of breathing musty air and squinting in the dark to make out any signs of movement, he finally drifted off himself, thinking as he did that this was, without a doubt, the longest amount of time he had spent next to another person in a long time. And the first time in nearly two years he had done it without stealing from them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter was definitely meant to be longer. But as predicted, school is interfering greatly with my general life so you'll probably get what was meant to be the second half of this chapter in a week or two. Sorry about that, but I hope you enjoyed this all the same! I'd love to hear your thoughts so far :)


	4. Chapter 4

Zuko woke hours before Sokka. At first, there was little indication that any time had passed at all. Sokka hadn’t moved an inch, and the same stuffy warmth hung in the air as before. But as he listened carefully, he began to discern signs of life beyond their little coop. A light flicking on in the hall, a few spare rays rolling beneath the door. Sleepy, scuffing footfalls. Voices too low for him to make out properly. Morning had arrived at last.

A heavy rap on the door started Zuko, setting his heart racing, and Sokka finally began to stir.

“Hey Snoozles! Wakey wakey, eggs n’ bakey or whatever! Come on!”

Zuko didn’t recognize the voice, but Sokka obviously did. In response to it he groaned dramatically and hurled his pillow at the door, which made a lack-lustre soft thump as it landed. Rolling from beneath the covers of his bed onto the floor, he stood and stretched his arms up over his head, with abundant continued groaning and cracking of joints and sighing, and proceeded to pull his shirt off over his head, balling it up and tossing onto his bed. It was at this point Zuko felt the need to interrupt -

“Um… _hello?”_

It was Sokka’s turn to jump. Swearing under his breath, he turned to look at Zuko.

“Fuck me I forgot about you.” That much was obvious, if unexpected. Unlike the previous night, however, Sokka’s voice lacked any malicious sting, and the brief glare he gave Zuko in response to being startled was short lived.

“Boy, that was pretty quick.” Zuko remarked flatly. He wasn’t sure if he meant for Sokka to hear it, but the little room was still so quiet, it would be almost impossible for him not to. Sokka responded with a vague shrug.

“Listen man, let’s be honest. In a way, you’re hardly even _news_. I mean, every single day in this place brings with it some fresh hell. Something new and terrible. My guess is that just gets to be you for a while.”

“Wow. I’m _flattered.”_

Another shrug, and then Sokka pulled some clothes from his shelf and tossed them down at Zuko.

“Come on. All the early birds have already gotten their worms, so I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if you borrow their shower. You definitely need one.” Zuko wanted to comment on Sokka’s confusing turn of phrase. Or at least be offended by his insult, even if it was true. But it’d been so long since he’d last been able to have an honest to god _shower,_ he couldn’t bring himself to risk losing the opportunity by saying something stupid.

Sokka lead him down the next hall and past a few more doors before stopping at one. After a quick knock and a short wait with no answer, he let them both inside. Zuko followed him through another door, where he flicked on the light to reveal the tiny bathroom they now stood in.

Sokka motioned at the shower curtain hung behind him. “Five minutes. Then I come get you whether you’re finished or not, alright?” Zuko nodded curtly, and Sokka let himself out, closing the door behind him and leaving Zuko alone for the first time since he got here.

Wasting no time, he quickly stripped down and stepped into the shower, turning the knob and bracing himself against the cold spray. To his surprise and delight, however, in a few moments the water had begun to warm. The welcome heat seeped into his skin, warming him through and leaching the stress and tension from his neck, his shoulders, his back, and a small, satisfied sigh escaped him. He helped himself to the little bar of soap perched on the shelf, scrubbing his skin and hair vigorously, but taking care with his injured knee. By now it had bruised deep and ugly, purple-blue fading to sickly green and yellow near the edges, and was fat and swollen badly. But it held firm, if somewhat painfully, when he put his weight on it, and he felt for once he should give thanks for small miracles. Even after he had finished washing, he lingered for a while, judging the risk of Sokka barging in on him to be worth while. The nock on the door the creak of its hinge a disappointingly short time later told him he had indeed returned.

“Hey, time’s almost up. I’m leaving a towel for you by the sink. Hurry up and get dressed, if I take too long to deliver you I’m sure my sister’ll hand my ass to me.”

In the privacy of the steamy bathroom, Zuko was just comfortable enough to chuckle at that. He stepped from the shower and wiped the fog from the mirror, gazing at the blurry figure that stared back at him and wondering when his hair had gotten so long.

Sokka had indeed left a neatly folded towel on the counter next to the stack of clothes he had given Zuko earlier. He must have taken the ones Zuko had been wearing too, because they weren’t on the floor where he had dropped them. He dried off as quickly as he could, finding his hair stayed ruefully damp no matter how hard he tried, and slipped into Sokka’s clothes – a pair of navy joggers and a well-worn grey t-shirt with the words _Huskies Hockey_ and a faded team emblem splashed across the front.

He met Sokka, who, in his absence had also dressed – to Zuko’s mild disappointment - back in the hall. There was a long moment of awkward silence where the two looked each other over, assessing each other’s mood and deliberating over what the tone of their next engagement would be. Eventually, pressured by the returning tension in his body, Zuko felt compelled to speak.

“So, like, were you any good?” He gestured at the emblem on the front of his shirt, surprised that _that_ had been what ended up coming out of his mouth. Sokka raised an eyebrow in return, crossing his arms defensively.

“What’s it to you?”

“Oh, so that’s a _no_ then, huh?” Zuko blurted without thinking. His voice didn’t sound nearly as harsh as it should have either, coming off more as light teasing than a scathing remark, and he braced himself for the targeted jab that was sure to come in return. But Sokka only made a sour face.

“Whatever. Better than you I’m sure.”

“That’s a pretty low bar, considering I’ve never played.” That earned him an eye roll.

“Of course you haven’t,” Sokka sighed.

With that he started down the hallway, motioning for Zuko to follow. They made their way down the staircase at the other end of the hall from the one they had come up the previous night in silence. Back on the main floor Sokka pushed his way through a nearby set of heavy double doors, and when Zuko followed he had to bite back the urge to gasp.

Sokka had brought him to the kitchen. Instantly, the smell of something rich with salt and fat simmering away somewhere washed over him, making his mouth water. Whole hocks, large slabs, and thin slices of cured, smocked, and dried meat hung from hooks on the ceiling along with long stings of garlic and bundles of drying herbs. The wall to his left was entirely covered in shelves heavy with jars of preserved fruit and pickled vegetables along with wild rice and dried beans, with many others empty, still awaiting filling, as well as larger, opaque bins labeled neatly on their fronts – flour (regular), flour (acorn), sugar, salt, and others Zuko couldn’t make out from where he stood. Baskets of fresh, mid-summer fruit sat piled temptingly high on the long metal tables in the centre of the room. Zuko thought he could discern their subtler sweet notes beneath the delicious aroma that had struck him earlier. The space was huge, obviously made to feed a crowd, with several large ovens and stove tops lining the wall to his right, and a metal door next to the shelves on his left with a small, frosty window he guessed must lead to a fridge or freezer. At the far end of the room was a long, open window through which Zuko could see a few people lingering together at tables, nursing the last dredges of something steaming hot at the bottoms of their mugs, no doubt.

Sokka, for his part, hadn’t noticed Zuko’s distractions, or simply hadn’t cared, and had disappeared somewhere without a word. Now Zuko spotted him speaking to an older woman hovering over a large pot on the stove. As she removed the lid to check on its contents Sokka’s hand darted out, grabbing a spoonful of the hot broth for himself. The woman slapped his hand away with the flat of her long wooden spoon, chastising him in a language Zuko couldn’t understand while he squawked in protest. They spoke for a few minutes more, when Zuko thought he heard his own name mentioned. His suspicion was confirmed when the woman turned towards him and looked him over once with the sure and disinterested gaze of a salesman he was trying to con who happened to know a lot more about the thing he was trying to sell than he did. Then she grinned a sly, wicked grin and turned back to Sokka, saying something that made him scoff and sputter indignantly, and her laugh heartily before returning to her pot and waving him away.

Sokka waved Zuko over and let himself out into the dinning room beyond. By the time Zuko made it through the kitchen, Sokka was hovering next to a table where Katara sat with two other women about their age. One was sweet-faced and cheery, with brown skin like Sokka and Katara’s, and bleached white hair that had been buzzed short sometime in the recent past; She was giggling at something Sokka was saying. The other had a more athletic build, and while she wore no other makeup, she had meticulously applied a bright red lipstick in an impressively perfect pout, and had half her cropped auburn bob pulled back from her face. She was smiling at Sokka too, in a way that suggested she was trying to disguise her amusement as exasperation but failing. They were chattering idly, but as Zuko approached they fell silent, turning their attention on him instead. 

“So, this is him, huh?” The girl with the bob looked him up and down skeptically. “Funny, when Katara said you beat him up, I expected someone a lot more… well… _wimpy.”_

Sokka shouted his objection while Katara calmly clarified she had never actually said _beat up_ , and the girl laughed at her own joke, giving Sokka a playful shove.

“You know I’m actually kind of surprised you both lived long enough to make it to breakfast this morning, what with the way you were acting last night. I’d owe Yue five bucks, if I had any cash on me.” Katara added loftily.

“Not like I have anywhere to spend it anyways. And for the record Sokka, I was on your side with this one,” the girl whose name was Yue added with a wink.

“Well it’s nice to know at least _one_ of my friends hasn’t betrayed me.”

“Hey! Are you going to introduce us or what you rude boy?”

Sokka half sighed, half groaned. He gestured to each in turn, “Suki, Yue, this is Zuko. Zuko, Suki and Yue. Happy now?”

“Very.” Suki said, and the smile on her face did seem genuine.

Just then, another girl with dark hair that hung into her eyes slammed her plate down beside them, plopping herself down and putting her socked feet up on the table. “For the record, I had my money on Snoozles here pissing himself with fear during the night, but shockingly it looks like I lost that one.” Zuko recognized her voice as the one that had woken them that morning.

“Hello!” Sokka interjected. “What _fucking dimension_ is this? What is everyone being so _mean_ to me this morning?”

“Oh, come on Sokka, we’re only teasing you,” Katara said.

“Whatever. You are all dead to me, and I have work to do. You -” he looked at Zuko, glaring again now - “be someone else’s problem for a while.” Sokka gathered his plate and mug and turned to leave despite choruses of objections from everyone at the table.

He had only taken a few steps when Suki called out, “Okay see you later Sokka, we love you!” Sokka’s head swiveled around, his mouth falling open in rage and disgust before morphing into a dramatic pout. Finally –

“Love you too,” he muttered bitterly.

Once he was gone the girls shared a round of the same found, exasperated look Suki had had when Zuko first saw her.

“Boy is he ever _grumpy_ in the mornings,” she said.

“A real drama queen, to be sure,” Katara agreed. She looked up at Zuko, who still stood awkwardly beside the table, and motioned for him to sit. He did.

“You hungry? I can get you something if you like. I hope you like eggs.”

“Oh, umm… sure? That’d be great actually, yeah.”

Katara returned to the table shortly with breakfast, and Zuko dug in eagerly, trying not to seem to desperate, though in truth he was starving. He had never been much for scrambled eggs, but Katara probably could have brought him anything this side of edible and he would have thought it amazing. The eggs had been cooked with sliced chives and slivers of salty meat that, while a fair bit more gamey than he was used to, hit the intersection of salty, savory, and warm in a way his usual scavenged meals never could. The tea she had brought him was unusual too, far from his favored blacks or his uncle’s beloved jasmine pearls, but it was hot and fragrant and slightly sweet, and it wasn’t lost on him that this was quite a welcome from the people he had tried to rob not so long ago.

When everyone’s plates had been cleaned and cleared away Katara’s friends, who Zuko now knew as Yue, Suki, and the charming Toph, scattered for their own daily activities. Katara showed Zuko to what she referred to as her clinic, which turned out to be little more than a modest room with a makeshift examination table, several dusty filing cabinets, folding chairs, and a cluttered desk.

It wasn’t any of these that gave Zuko the impression that he was very much out of his element, though. What did that was the set of doors opposite the office. Zuko suspected that if he were able to see through their small windows, he’d find little more than another unassuming hallway. But he couldn’t. This was because those windows had been plastered with large notices. Careful lettering and hand-drawn biohazard symbols indicated clearly the danger that lay beyond them – he hadn’t needed the extra instruction of “entry with authorization only” to tell him to steer clear. While he had learned some time ago that he didn’t face the same dangers as most when it came to exposure and the usually inevitable contraction, the idea of what he might find through those doors was enough to turn his stomach. He wasn’t sure if having it hidden from view made things better or worse, either. He was grateful when Katara closed the door behind them, and he didn’t have to think too hard about it anymore.

“Until your knee’s heeled up a bit, I think it’s best I keep an eye on you. If someone around here sees you just standing around, they’d throw a fit I’m sure.” She smiled like it was a joke, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes, and he knew she wasn’t kidding.

After a quick examination Katara sat him at the desk and propped his knee up on a chair, administering a few pills from a bottle stashed in one of the cabinet drawers, which she carefully marked down on a chart hung on the wall.

“This should help with the swelling and pain a bit. They’re kind of in short supply around here, but I think we can spare a few.” Zuko nodded his thanks and swallowed them down.

“Now then, I think you can probably help me out with some of this –“ she gestured to the stacks of papers and files on the table – “I tend to run out of time to put everything away, but I can show you how I like to keep things and maybe you could take over?”

Zuko didn’t feel like he had much of an option, but considering how unnecessarily welcoming she had been to him, he figured he owed her something in return. As a sign of good will, at least. So, he agreed.

It was relatively simple, once he got the hang of it. She kept records for each person who visited her, as well as meticulous logs of her supplies – medicines, first aid supplies, and more traditional remedies. Zuko didn’t recognize most of the names, but when he noticed Sokka’s he felt an itch of curiosity. In the end, though, he decided Sokka’s various ailments were none of his business, and filed them away deliberately before he could change his mind.

During the day, Katara did have numerous visitors. Most, like Zuko, were there to be checked up on, with healing injuries who only wanted their minds set at ease. One or two where ill, but nothing major – Katara prescribed them medicinal remedies and plenty of rest. Zuko noted, however, that while she seemed to be taking care of the run-of-the-mill health and wellness of the people here, there was no sign of those the ominous sign had warned him about.

Eventually, his curiosity got the better of him.

“So, what’s the deal with this place?”

Katara cocked an eyebrow without looking up from her work, checking inventory in one of her cabinets. “The deal?”

“Yeah. Not to sound rude, because believe me the last thing I want is to offend you, but it’s the end of the world out there any you guys have, what? Running water? Electricity? Food and medicine and I don’t know what else?”

“Ah. I see.”

“I just – where am I? Who are you guys? I can’t decide if this is a godsend, or if I’m about to get murdered to protect the secret of your little oasis from the rest of the world or something.” Katara laughed at that, and Zuko felt a little better. He had been a little hesitant to say so, but he could only take not knowing for so long.

“Okay well, this place is kind of a long story, but let’s start easy. You’re in a school, or what used to be a school, I guess. They closed this place a _long_ time ago, so when the outbreak first started my dad and a couple of the other doctors set this place up to take care of some of the people who couldn’t get treatment in the city.” She sighed wistfully, and in the long pause that followed, Zuko could here the rattling of pills as she shifted around their little plastic bottles.

“Things here were alright at first. It was hard, it still is, to see people suffering like that, but at least here they were well taken care of. We thought things would get better eventually, but it just kept going on and on, and after a while we kind of fell through the cracks, you know? We had to get creative to be able to afford to keep things running. My dad managed to get a donation for us to drill our own well, and Sokka spent grad school setting up a geothermal energy system – not just here, but I think that’s where he got the idea for it – and some of the families that were staying here started a garden, we even got chickens!” That brought a smile to her face, and Zuko smiled too, remembering their breakfast, realizing where it had come from.

“But then…”

“Yeah. Then.”

Zuko didn’t need reminding what had happened when the story broke – _The Truth About the Virus –_ the world finding out that Phoenix Pharmaceuticals had engineered the whole thing just so they could make absurd amounts of money off the treatment. By that time, though, anyone who knew anything useful had long disappeared, and with them any hope for a cure, or even of continuing treatment for those who needed it. That it had pushed an already failing world over the edge had been the same for just about everyone.

Katara chewed her bottom lip absently for a moment, then shook her head, clearing the air of its sudden dark mood.

“I guess we were lucky, though. We had most of what we needed here already. And honestly, I think my gran saw they whole thing coming. Some of the others must have, too, because when things settled down, they were ready. Hunting, fishing, foraging, those that knew it taught the rest. I knew a little already, but I’ll admit I needed a little fine-tuning. But we do our best.” She smiled again, and drew herself up with pride. “We can’t help everyone, but my dad insists that if anyone comes looking for it, we’ll always offer.”

Zuko was stunned. Whatever he had been expecting to hear, it wasn’t this.

“On that note, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you want, by the way. I know my brother’s a little hostile, but I’m sure he’ll come around.”

“I doubt that. Besides it’s not really him I’m worried about.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah well. You two aren’t exactly the only ones who have… _prior experience_ with me.” Zuko doubted very much that everyone would be as forgiving of his past as they had been.

“I suppose that could potentially be an issue,” she conceded, “and I wouldn’t go around advertising it if I were you. I will say though, if someone asks, I won’t lie for you.” He couldn’t blame her for that. After all, her loyalty was bound to lay with her friends and family, not some random stranger she had begrudgingly helped.

* * *

Later that evening, when Zuko caught sight of Sokka across the dinning hall, it mortified him to find he was almost pleased to see him. A familiar, if not exactly friendly, face was welcome after the prying eyes or downright hostile glares of the long line of strangers he had met with Katara. Sokka, on the other hand, looked at him the way he might if he had found a button missing on his favorite shirt.

“You’re still here huh?”

“Not like I have anywhere better to be.”

That made Sokka pause.

“What, you don’t have anyone waiting for you out there?”

“No one’s going to come breaking down your door looking for me if that’s what you’re worried about,” Zuko snapped back irritably. He should have expected this.

“Oh. Well, good then.”

Sokka joined their table, but while his friends talked and laughed over dinner, he stayed rather quiet. Sokka didn’t exactly strike him as the quiet, brooding type, but Zuko tried not to think too hard about his sudden change in demeanor. Even when they had finished dinner, and Katara and Suki went to help with the clean up while the rest retired to their own evening pass times, Zuko could tell he was still distracted. For one thing, though he was supposedly reading the same battered old book Zuko had seen him with the previous night, be hadn’t turned his page once.

Having nothing better to do, Zuko found his attention wandering about the room. He noticed people playing cards, sharing quiet words, mending clothes. Some, like Sokka were reading, or fliting about the room clearing plates and wiping tables. It had been a long time since Zuko had been around so many people, and while he wasn’t sure exactly how he could ever fit in to any of this again, or that he would want to, he had to admit it felt nice. Even if they were too engrossed in their own private lives to pay him any mind. In fact, he was rather glad of that. He hoped to keep his anonymity here for as long as possible.

That began to seem unlikely, however, when one of the men on clean-up duty noticed him, and when he and Zuko locked eyes, he knew two things: One, that he recognized the man’s face. And two, that he himself was distinctly out of place, and that was suspicious to him. He was sure they had had a run in before. He waited to be confronted, to face the consequences of his actions. But nothing came, and he fell back into his distraction with only some hesitation.

He watched out the dinning room windows as the sun began to sink low on the horizon, casting a wash of yellow and pink over the green expanse of the fields outside, and knew it must be getting late. Eventually, Sokka shut his book with a snap, and addressed him for the first time in hours.

“Alright, well, I’m off to bed, and unless you want to sleep out here tonight I suggest you come with, because I will not have you barging in in the middle of the night and waking me up.”

Zuko nodded, and followed along behind him as he made his way upstairs, thinking Suki was right – he really did get grumpy when he was tired.

As Sokka and Zuko rounded the corner, they found their path blocked by a small group of people who had gathered down the hall.

“That’s him!”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Zuko knew instantly his secret was indeed out. They sounded angry. And as they got closer, Zuko could tell they looked angry too.

“Alright, I’ll bite.” Sokka started evenly when they had gotten close, “what’s got you guys all worked up?”

“Come on, Sokka, don’t play dumb. Katara told us _all about_ your new delinquent friend,” was the answer of a tall, grizzly looking man at the front of the group who seemed to be leading the charge.

“We’re not friends.” Sokka replied coolly.

“Good, so you won’t mind if we have a little _chat_ with him, then.” They started moving closer, but Sokka stepped between them, putting a hand up to stop them.

“I do mind, actually.”

The other man sneered, closing the space between them until Sokka had to lay his hand on his chest, pushing him back slightly. “Why are you defending him? You know what he’s done!”

Sokka scoffed. “Yeah, like you guys are saints.”

“Sokka –“

“Look, we helped all of _you_ when you needed it. Whether we wanted to or not. Whether we _should_ have or not. And believe you me, sometimes it definitely was _not_. And now, we’re helping Zuko. I don’t care _what_ you think of him. I don’t even care what _I_ think of him. So, you can get used to it or not, your choice, but right now what _I_ need, is for you to get the hell out of my face, alright?”

There was plenty of grumbling and dragging of feet, but Sokka held their gaze and his ground until, one by one, the little crowd that had assembled shuffled off the way they had come, defeated. When they had gone, Sokka sighed heavily, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. Zuko open his mouth to mumble his thanks, but Sokka caught his meaning before he could.

“Don’t. Seriously. Don’t.”

They didn’t talk as they went to bed that night. But Zuko lay awake for a long time, thinking of how Sokka had acted, what he had done, and how different those were from what he kept saying, and feeling strange.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty exposition heavy chapter, I know. But we had to get it out of the way at some point, right? And next time, we get to check in on Sokka - What's a day in the apocalypse like for him, and how's he adjusting to having a new roommate?
> 
> As always, thanks so much for reading, and I'd always love to hear from you :)


	5. Chapter 5

Sokka would certainly be willing to say that Zuko was a thorn in his side.

And, the thorniest thing about Zuko? How much he really _wasn’t_ one. Two weeks worth of mornings together and, apart from that first day, Sokka hadn’t once woken up to find him still in his room. In fact, lately Sokka found himself being woken gently by Zuko’s soft exits, rather than his usual, more aggressive wake-up calls, and he couldn’t really say he minded.

Mostly, he caught fleeting glances of Zuko, who seemed to slip in and out of his periphery, always leaving just as Sokka was arriving. For now, he was Katara’s problem – she still insisted on keeping a close eye on him as he healed and settled in, and apparently that process now involved an ever more rigorous regiment of therapeutic exercises that Sokka didn’t envy, but could imagine, the absurdity of which was usually enough to brighten his day. Unfortunately, his sister was unwilling to confine her new assistant to a sad and well-deserved existence confined to her office or perhaps someone _else’s_ broom closet while he was with them, and consequently Sokka was forced to watch distantly and sourly as he mingled with friends, saying things in his hushed, rough tones that would usually earn him a giggle – at least until Sokka was close enough to be able to catch anything for himself, when they would all fall suspiciously silent.

Still, he was glad to have at least a few more weeks before Zuko might once again become his problem, seeing as Sokka’s laundry list of responsibilities left him little time or energy to add “obsess over Zuko” to it.

Today, as usual, he began this by visiting Teo and Toph, who kept an eye and an ear, respectively, on the place from what Teo had affectionately called the crow’s nest – little more than a few security camera feeds and an old CB radio, it was the only place where communication was consistent between themselves and his father, who spent most of his time with his patients, rather than risk moving between them and the outside world.

His knock on the doorframe of the dim little room caught their attention, and they smiled, and for a few minutes he was happy to indulge himself in the resultant pointless chatter over half a cup of half-cold tea like he was dragging his feet at any old office job, and like this was what a normal life was supposed to be.

As they waited to hear from his father, Sokka noticed the square of salt-and-pepper static still droning away on Teo’s screen, and Sokka felt a pang as he remembered he had been informed yesterday that one of their security camera’s was out, and he had yet to take a look at it. Before he could think much more on it though, his father’s voice came in over the radio, “Toph, when you see Sokka, could you tell him the ventilation system is still acting up? He should have another look at it.”

Toph turned towards Sokka, face carefully – and conspicuously – neutral. “Sokka, you’re dad says-“

“I heard!” Sokka snapped, exasperated. Then, more quietly he muttered to himself, “how about you tell _him_ that I actually don’t know anything about the ventilation in this place, so it’s kind of hard to just, _fix it.”_

Toph shrugged and raised the mic to her mouth. “Okay.” She took a deep breath and switched it on.

Sokka slapped the mic from her hand, sending it flying. It reached the limit of its cord, bounced back, and hung swinging incredulously a few inches from the ground. “Don’t _actually tell him_! God!”

Toph shrugged again, smirking, and leaned over to feel for the mic. “Sorry, thought you wanted me to.”

Sokka rolled his eyes, though he knew she couldn’t see it. Still, he was pretty sure she’d know.

“ _Alright_. Anything _else?_ ”

“That would be a negative,” Teo cut in before Toph could respond.

“Great, I’ll see you kids later then.” Sokka put a hand on each of their heads and ruffled their hair, earning a good-natured chuckled and swat from Teo and a groan from Toph.

His father seemed to be under the impression that Sokka could fix anything, no matter how many times or how forcefully he reminded him that neither his planetary science nor his mechanical engineering knowledge gave him that kind of expertise. _Aren’t you supposed to be a rocket scientist, Sokka?_ He’d tease, s _houldn’t you be able to handle something as simple as this?_ Why yes, he _was_ supposed to be doing something incredible for NASA or the CSA or something equally cool by now. Thanks for the reminder. _So glad_ he had invested in _that_ experience. Thank god he had come to his senses, and stomped that dream down before applying to grad school, or things around here would be a lot worse than they were.

As of yet, though, he hadn’t failed his father’s expectations. And he didn’t intend to.

Hoping it would be a quick fix, Sokka retrieved a ladder and tool box and dragged them through the long grass and weeds that had once been a carefully manicured lawn to the fence line, and set to work on fixing the camera. Normally, he wouldn’t be so concerned, but another thing on his long list of to dos happened to be “fix hole in fence”, and a little extra security while he got to that one couldn’t hurt.

As he worked, the sun climbed slowly higher in the sky, moving shadows like chess pieces until they disappeared beneath Sokka’s feet, and he felt the resultant burn on the back of his neck. He had to remind himself that, as unpleasant as this felt now, things would be a lot harder in a few months, when temperatures started to drop with the leaves, and he would still have to do all the same things, only in mittens.

Sokka made his way through the day as he always did – doing his best, and trying not to think to hard about what it would mean if his best wasn’t enough. The camera and the ventilation were followed by more standard chores. A gate check, where he found no strangers waiting to be let in, and was silently grateful for it. Checking his snares in the forest beyond - finding them empty for the third day in a row, which left him wondering if perhaps they had exhausted their supply of small game in the area, or if his snare-setting skills still left something to be desired. He had little time to worry about it, though, when the fishing party who had left three days ago returned with their haul to clean and preserve. Sokka never much liked cleaning fish, but he helped all the same. This reminded him that they would need to cut more wood before going out again, if they were going to be able to smoke what they caught. He made a note of that. When they had finished, he set to work on his newest pet project: following the losses they had had the previous winter, he had decided it would be best to keep his chickens (and yes, they were his chickens now, he had decided that too) somewhere warmer, and closer, than the improvised coup they had had the previous year. Now deep in the process of adding on a chicken coup to their storage area, he was closing in on the finish line, and his desire to see it completed drove him to work through dinner more nights than he would have believed possible just a few short years ago. Tonight turned out to be one of those nights.

As often happened when he was alone, his thoughts began to wander. He wondered if game was truly becoming scarcer, or if he was only imagining things. He wondered, if it were, how they would make it through the coming winter. They had tried to plan as best they could, growing things that could be preserved, or keep through the long months they would spend in storage. Saving everything, using everything, they had always been taught that, even before they needed to use it to survive. But they had more people to worry about now than they had before, and Sokka wondered how much longer they could keep up with their needs.

As he thought of these newcomers, his mind drifted inevitably to Zuko, and he wondered, not for the first time, how he had managed all this time by himself. To his discredit, he didn’t seem particularly concerned with self-preservation, but highway robbery could only get one so far in life, and the potential it had for disaster seemed too high for it not to have happened already. But, then again, Sokka remembered, it had. And it had been him. It still puzzled him, though, to think of Zuko alone, but he had indeed indicated that there was no one he had left behind. He couldn’t imagine being in that position, and didn’t want to try.

Eventually, the growling protests of Sokka’s stomach proved too much for his resolve, and he was forced to retire for the evening. He expected to see Zuko in his room or on his way to the shower, or even in the dinning room, but, like whatever dinner that had been laid out which he had missed, he was long gone. For someone Sokka shared a room with, he saw surprisingly little of him.

Sure that Katara at least would have thought to leave something out for him, Sokka made his way back to the kitchen. Before he could let himself in, though, he could just make out two familiar voices coming from within.

“…It’s just oatmeal.”

“I know but I… I don’t know what I’m doing”

Sokka pushed open the kitchen doors to find Suki and Zuko standing together over the stove, peering into a giant pot.

“Ah, so this is where you’re hiding.”

Suki looked up at his voice, greeting him with a wide grin as he walked to the table in the middle of the room, perching on its edge and helping himself to the plate of food he knew had been left for him.

“You’re one to talk,” she replied while Zuko worried over their pot, “been rather elusive yourself lately, haven’t you?”

Sokka wondered briefly if she was upset, but when she left Zuko’s side to jump up onto the table beside him, bumping his shoulder with hers, he knew she was only teasing.

“Okay, first of all, I’m not _elusive_ , I’m _busy_. There’s a difference. And actually, I was… talking to Zuko.” Zuko looked up at the mention of his name, clearly surprised that Sokka was addressing him.

“Aww, what’s the matter, missing your new roomie?”

“Oh, yeah. You _know_ I _just can’t sleep_ without someone snoring incessantly in my ear these days,” Sokka drawled. “No, I’d just rather not be woken up when he blunders into my room later after I finally get to go to bed.”

“Right. Because _Zuko’s_ the one with the snoring problem.” Suki joked.

“Hey!”

Giggling, Suki threw her arm over Sokka’s shoulder. “Look I’m not saying your snoring is why we broke up, Sokka, but it definitely didn’t help, you know?”

Sokka was preparing a snarky retort, when Zuko gave a quiet snort, drawing his attention.

“Oh, you think that’s _funny_ , do you?”

Zuko shrugged.

“See. Zuko knows what I’m talking about.”

“I _don’t snore_. Zuko, would you please tell her I don’t snore?”

There was a pause, during which only the scaping of Zuko’s wooden spoon against the bottom of the pot, followed by a faint metallic clinking as he covered it over with a lid was heard. Then he smirked, so small it was almost imperceptible. “Well, _I_ don’t snore.”

“Unbelievable.”

Suki let out a loud guffaw and pushed Sokka off the table. Lightly jumping down after him.

“Alright, well I think I’ll leave you two to this, then.”

_“Suki –_ ” Zuko started, a sudden look of panic appearing on his face.

_“Goodnight.”_

Zuko stared after her as the kitchen doors swung shut behind her, fidgeting slightly. Clearly, he didn’t think himself capable of being left at the stove unsupervised.

As if god wanted to prove a point, the pot immediately began to boil over.

“Zuko!” Sokka exclaimed, rushing to pull it from the heat, removing the lid quickly to let the steam escape.

After a quick stir, he set it back over the heat, looking to Zuko for an explanation. What he found was something snared half-way between a grimace and an apologetic smile, a deer-in-headlights look in his wide eyes. A long, high, breathy groan weaseled its way between his bared teeth, and Sokka couldn’t help himself – Zuko’s plight made such a perfectly awkward, hilarious, _human_ picture, he couldn’t stop the giddy laughter that bubbled out of him, especially when the dejected Zuko tried to replace the pot’s lid, and Sokka had to smack his hand away.

“What are you _doing?”_ he managed to gurgle out between peels of laughter, “did you seriously not learn _anything_ just now?”

_“I’m sorry!”_ Zuko whined in return, only making Sokka laugh harder. “I’m – I’m not good at this!”

“Clearly.” Sokka wiped the tears from his eyes, taking the spoon from Zuko and nudging him gently aside. “What, have you never cooked before? How did _you_ get stuck with kitchen duty?”

Zuko shrugged, chagrined. “Never had much opportunity, I guess. And your grandmother was _very_ insistent that I learn. She told Katara she’d take me when she was done with me. I mean, what does that even _mean_ , Sokka?”

Sokka laughed again. “It means you can expect kitchen duty for a while, I think.” Zuko squeaked nervously, and Sokka added, “don’t worry, I’ll help you tonight, and we can figure it out from there, alright?”

Zuko nodded, and Sokka handed the spoon back to him.

“How have you never done this before?”

Another shrug. “I guess we just usually had someone else do the cooking in my house.”

“Mm. Spoiled, were you? Must be nice.”

Zuko snorted, rolling his eyes. “Something like that, I guess.” His voice was suddenly detached, and a little sad, and he was staring deep into the pot of oatmeal like it was a crystal ball he was desperately trying to read. Sokka couldn’t explain the way that made his heart twinge, but it did. He reached over, giving him a gentle shove.

“Well, good luck with getting away with that here. No matter how pompous and pretty you are, _no one_ can escape my gran.”

That had Zuko smiling again, and Sokka felt strangely better for it himself.

As the oatmeal simmered away on the stove, Sokka shared with Zuko some of his own stories of disastrous cooking, which kept the smile Sokka had earned firmly in place, much to Sokka’s delight. Finally, they judged that it had been long enough, and the removed the pot from the stovetop for the final time. Zuko took a sampling of it for himself, but when he tasted their creation, his face wrinkled up with disgust.

“I think I might have fucked this up worse than we thought.”

Sokka sighed. “No, unfortunately that’s just how it tastes. Trust me. We make it the night before to give it a little extra time to soften up overnight, but I admit, it’s still not great.”

Zuko gaped at him, crestfallen.

_“But,”_ Sokka continued, “we can do something to make it _a little_ better.”

Zuko raised a brow at that, and Sokka signaled him to wait while climbed the shelves at the back of the kitchen, pulling down and handing him a couple bowls and several small jars. He spooned some of the oatmeal into each bowl, topping them with a generous glug of sticky amber liquid from one jar and fragrant dollop from the other.

“Maple syrup?”

Sokka shook his head. “Birch. We don’t have any maples around here, at least not that I know of. And I’d try to steal us some strawberry jam, but I don’t think I could get away with that without gran noticing. Apple butter is the best I can do for you, but that’s alright too.”

Zuko tried the oatmeal for the second time, this time without the unimpressed grimace. “It’s… pretty alright, actually. Could be better. Could be a lot worse. Better than what I usually have at least.”

Sokka smiled, helping himself. “Don’t worry,” he said. “It’ll grow on you.” Most things did, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, remember when I said I was going to try and update this every two weeks? Boy, was that ever wishful thinking. But, here we are, and I do intend to keep updating, even if it takes a little longer than I'd like. Also, I promise not every chapter is just going to be "one of them lives through an average day, and then they see each other for a bit right at the end", that's just how this happened to work out I guess.
> 
> Also, I once interned with someone who double majored in mechanical eng and planetary science at Johns Hopkins, and my GOD could you imagine? Anyways, that's my inspiration for Sokka here, because I think he has that kind of energy...
> 
> Oh, also there's a [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6W7VORI90VCZhpr5LvNNr6) for this now, listen at your own risk of mild spoilers
> 
> As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts, and thanks for reading ! :)


	6. Chapter 6

“Sokka, your dad’s been in my ear all morning about the downed fence of the east side. He says you still haven’t fixed it, and if you don’t do it soon, he’s going to have to ‘take matters into his own hands’, whatever that means.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, alright? I’ve been meaning to get to it. It’s just not so easy on my own.”

Sokka was taking breakfast at the table, for once, this morning. And Zuko was sure by now he was regretting it.

“Well, find someone to help you then, Snoozles.” Toph didn’t spare a moment to play the don’t shoot the messenger card, or any sympathy for Sokka’s predicament, it seemed.

Sokka turned his eyes on the other girls at the table. Looking rather sheepish, Yue turned away, shoveling a heaping spoonful of oatmeal into her mouth just as she did, perhaps hoping it would glue her mouth shut, as it often threatened to do, and it was Katara who was left to dash her brother’s hopes.

“Sorry Sokka, but you’ll have to find someone else. Toph just told us. Dad says he needs all hands on deck this morning, and that includes us.”

There was a significant, charged pause at the table while everyone but Zuko comprehended her meaning.

“Oh. Yeah, don’t worry. I’ll figure it out.”

Zuko had learned a lot of things in the weeks since he had arrived. He had learned how to scramble eggs, that asparagus grew wild on the banks of the river nearby, what he imagined it felt like to be a secretary before the invention of computers, and that, given the choice between sleeping on the cold, hard floor beneath the shelves of a tiny broom closet next to an occasional snorer, or squatting somewhere where the beds on offer were very much more comfortable, but he was also very much more alone, surprisingly he would choose the former. But what surprised him most to learn was that almost everything he thought he knew about Sokka when they first met had been wrong. He was not nearly as cold and unfeeling as he pretended, wearing his aloof attitude like armor, keeping their new reality at arms length, and its sharp edges well away from his delicate sensibilities. But Zuko had seen through a chink in that armor - perhaps without Sokka even knowing it, and certainly without his consent. He also knew that these days earning your keep meant being useful wherever you could.

“I could help you with that.” He pipped up.

Collectively, three pairs of eyes turned on him. Sokka smiled wryly.

“Oh, you think so, huh pretty boy? Well, if you’re up for getting your hands dirty, then who am I to turn down so-so help.”

Sokka had taken to calling him that. Pretty boy. Zuko might hate it more, if it weren’t glaringly obvious that the insult didn’t suit him. Or at least, that no one had ever used such an insult in the way he did – genuinely. Usually, when it came to his appearance, people made it perfectly obvious just what they thought he was lacking.

But to Sokka, it was insulting because he seemed to think it both true and obvious – fresh-faced and soft-skinned, Zuko was nothing like the respectable, work-hardened men Sokka was so used to, or even Sokka himself. These days, compared with his calloused hands and sun-speckled brown skin, perhaps pretty _could_ be considered both _true_ and _insulting._

“Flattery will get you no where, didn’t anyone ever tell you that, Sokka?”

* * *

“So, what did your sister mean, ‘all hands on deck’? Sounded kind of serious.”

Sokka was leading Zuko out to the east fence line, dragging behind them a roll of chain link mesh whose metal fabric caught repeatedly on the long grass beneath, slowing their progress.

“Yeah, you could say that.” Sokka’s voice was more subdued than usual, and had been since breakfast. It was a long while before he continued, apparently hesitant to share, “it means someone’s dying Zuko, or… maybe they already have.”

For a moment, he was silent once more, staring intently at his feet as he picked his way across the lawn. It would be easy to assume he was simply watching his footing, trying not to trip over the grass, but Zuko didn’t think so.

“I – I’m sorry.”

Sokka shrugged. “Just be glad you’re out here with me, and not in there with them.”

“Oh, _I_ am. I’m just not so sure _you_ are.”

Sokka chuckled, seeming to shake himself free from the heavy weight of his thoughts, just as Zuko had hoped. “Well three hands _are_ better than two.”

“What do you mean _three_?” Zuko couldn’t help himself. He held out his hands, examining them for their apparent faults.

“Well, I’m only counting each of yours as half, see?” Zuko scoffed, crossing his arms indignantly, but Sokka only laugher harder. “Alright, so prove me wrong and be useful why don’t you?”

Determined to do just that, Zuko offered to retrieve the remainder of the supplies Sokka had laid out in the tool shed for them. By the time he returned with the last of them, Sokka had already made quick work of removing the twisted metal of the old fence and straightening out the bent posts as best he could. There was no opportunity, he had explained, to put in new posts – they would have to make do with what they had.

Zuko watched him as he worked, reasoning his way through the hows and whys and the whats and wheres of the different components, brow furrowed in concentration, but a satisfied grin on his face. As he cleared away the now mangled pieces, Zuko watched, captivated, as a thick strand of brown hair worked its way loose from the confines of Sokka’s ponytail, falling to brush his jaw, a calloused hand moving to tuck it safely behind his ear before returning to his work.

“Hey Zuko, could you hand me that wrench there, please?” Sokka’s voice snapped him effectively out of his stupor. He hadn’t realized he had been biting the inside of his cheek.

“Uhh…”

That earned him a snort and an eye roll. Sokka stood from where he had been kneeling beside the fence post and brushed the dry grass from where it clung to his knees. He closed the space between them in a few long strides, getting a lot closer than Zuko expected. Reaching behind him, he picked up the wrench from one of the middle rungs on the ladder Zuko was now so helpfully leaning against.

“You know, this thing?” He waved it in front of Zuko’s face, who snatched it from his hand in an irritated huff.

“I know what a wrench is, Sokka!”

“Okay, okay! Sorry! You just looked confused.”

“I wasn’t confused I was just…” He trailed off, not too sure how to explain what it was he _had_ been doing.

“Day dreaming?” Sokka suggested, as he took the wrench back.

Zuko hummed noncommittally. Thinking he aught to try to be at least a bit more useful, he moved to kneel beside him.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Sokka said at length.

“Sure, I guess.”

“What were you like, before all this? I mean, like, how have you never done _any_ of this stuff? What exactly _were_ you doing?”

Zuko hesitated, working out how much, exactly, he should reveal. “I was in business.”

“Of course you were. It all makes sense now!” Sokka wailed dramatically, clearly uninterested in the specifics.

Zuko laughed. “Hey, it wasn’t like it was my idea, it was a _family_ company.”

“Oh, I see, so that makes it all fine then.”

“Haven’t you ever done anything you didn’t want to do just to please your parents?”

Sokka hummed his affirmation. “Touché. But _I_ didn’t build my whole life around doing so.”

That, admittedly, he could believe. “Alright, alright, fair enough.”

Zuko was content to let the conversation rest at that, and listen only to the quiet clicking of the socket wrench as Sokka tightened bolts, but Sokka, apparently, was not.

“So, what would you have done?”

“Huh?”

“You know, if you hadn’t gone into _business_. What would you have picked?”

“I – no, nothing, it’s stupid.”

“Right. Because a degree in financial management or whatever the fuck is _so useful_ during the literal apocalypse. That’s just what we needed. Oh, great and powerful creator! Please! Send us someone to balance our chequebooks, I’m ever so worried about our financial situation in this cut-throat economy.”

Sokka chuckled at his own joke, but Zuko by now was keeled over on the ground in stitches. “Okay! Point Sokka!” He conceded.

He lay on the ground for a while, staring up at the hazy blue sky, listening to the trembling of the aspen leaves in the distance. He let himself imagine, just for a moment, what he would have chosen, if he had had Sokka’s strength of character.

“I think – I think maybe I would have gone into theater or something. Maybe literature. I could write poetry, I think. Or I could try at least.”

Sokka hummed warmly in response, and he could just catch his grin out of the corner of his eye from where he was lying. Clearly, that was somehow a more respectable occupation, in his mind at least.

“What about you?”

“Rocket scientist.” He said matter-of-factly.

“Ha ha.”

Sokka raised a brow in challenge, his cheeky grin splitting wide into a proud smile, and Zuko knew for once there was no sarcasm in his response.

“God, wait, you’re serious, aren’t you.”

“Just call me NASA’s last intern, for all the good it’ll do me. Maybe help my pride at least.”

Zuko raised himself up onto his elbows, staring intently at Sokka’s profile, this time imagining him some brilliant young scientist, the brightest smile and brightest star in a room full of old white men with old white man beards, intent on reaching for the heavens themselves, and knew instantly that showing them up was where he belonged. The pang of regret he felt deep in his stomach at the thought didn’t bear thinking about.

“I think you got the worse end of the deal. And I would know, about deals I mean.”

Sokka tipped his head, considering for a moment, and chuckled darkly. “You know something Zuko? I think you might be right.”

The remainder of their task proved not to be too difficult, Zuko mostly holding tools and acting as an extra pair of hands for Sokka’s direction, and soon enough they were finished.

Zuko found he had been wrong the first night. The fence surrounding the yard _was_ topped with an ominous coil of barbed wire, which Sokka was now replacing atop their newly repaired section. Apparently, he had simply missed that with everything else going on at the time.

“What’s with the barbed wire? Thought you guys were friendly and welcoming to all or whatever.”

Sokka shot him a cold look. “Yeah, sure. That’s Katara and dad for you. Personally, I don’t trust people enough to be roaming around outside my house at night. I’d rather they wait to be let in in the morning, if they really _have_ to be here. Besides, we’ve had some… _trouble_ in the past with strangers getting a little too comfortable taking, taking, taking, and not returning the favour if you know what I mean.”

“You mean someone was stealing from you?”

Sokka nodded. Then qualified with a bit of a head tilt. Zuko raised a quizzical eyebrow in return, but Sokka failed to elaborate.

“Anyways, I think that’s what finally convinced dad to let me put this up. And just between you and me, I think they’re probably the ones who forced this little repair job here. Lucky for us something must have scared them off before they could do any more damage.”

“You think they’re dangerous?”

“Not really. Just kind of a pain in the ass. Like you,” Sokka joked, jabbing him lightly with the toe of his boot.

“Hey! I was really helpful today,” Zuko retorted as Sokka clambered down off his ladder.

He was wearing that mischievous grin again. “Well, you were _helpful._ ”

Zuko gave Sokka what he felt to be a well-deserved shove, and he laughed warmly. As they finished cleaning up after themselves, Zuko noticed Sokka was dragging his feet again.

“So… you got kitchen duty now?”

“Not as long as I’m helping you.”

“Oh, well you had better keep helping me then. No offence, but I don’t think cooking is really your strong suit.”

“Hey, no argument there.” Zuko knew he hadn’t a leg to stand on with that one, if he tried.

“Well, I guess you could tag along with me while I check my nuts.”

“While you what?”

* * *

It wasn’t that Zuko had never been in a forest before – of course he had. But as he struggled through the tangled undergrowth which snared and scratched his legs, it occurred to him that never once had he been in one without a path to guide him.

Sokka didn’t seem bothered by the tricky footing, practice lending an ease of movement to his strides that Zuko was sure in all his years he would never match. He seemed to know just where to step, to avoid the traps the forest had laid for them, but whether that was because he could remember the way or just knew it instinctively, Zuko couldn’t say. What he _could_ say was that he was slowing Sokka down, and the further they walked, the more times he stumbled and recovered, the more he felt his knee twinge, and the slower he became.

Sokka didn’t seem to mind, though, adjusting to fall into step beside him. Following his lead more closely now, Zuko found his way easier than he had on his own. And when his knee twinged again, and he stumbled, Sokka caught hold of his arm, keeping him on his feet.

“Hey. I – I’m sorry about that” He gestured to the offending knee.

Zuko shrugged. “’t’s alright.”

“No, it’s not. I shouldn’t have – and, and I should have – I just - I’m sorry. Really, I am.”

There was an earnestness in the set of Sokka’s jaw, the pinch of his brow, the cadence his voice had borrowed from the whisper of the aspens overhead, and the way he tapped the back of his hand ever so gently against Zuko’s shoulder, letting it rest there, his fingers just barely curling back in on themselves. Zuko didn’t need them, to know, but he was glad of them all the same.

“I know.”

The smile they shared was small and fragile, but unguarded. Zuko could feel its pull on his own lips, and see it reflected on Sokka’s face, a blossom of genuine affection pushing through cracks of dry, bare earth. The sensation was a little too much for him.

“So… What exactly _are_ we doing out here?”

“Oh, uh…” Sokka cleared his throat, letting his hand fall back against his side, “you know, acorns.”

Zuko didn’t, but Sokka turned away too quickly for him to ask for further clarification.

They continued on walking together, and after a time the way became easier. The scrubby brush of the lowest level of forest gave way to mosses and thick blankets of fragrant needles as darker evergreens replaced many of the daintier deciduous trees of the forest’s edge, the shadows hey cast and the shafts of soft light the didn’t quite catch lending the wood a moody noir quality Zuko found rather enchanting, as if whole thing were being recorded on film, and not just in his memories.

So bewitched was he by the delicate wisps of lichen hanging from branches just beyond his reach, and the lace-like forms of those which clung to the bark of the trees, thinking they had wandered into a fairy-tale somewhere along the way, that he almost failed to notice the babbling of the stream Sokka had led them to until he was nearly standing in it. The gentle white noise it made as it rolled the stones at its bed along, clacking them together, smoothing out their rough edges, could stand in easily for static on an old film real, and did little to convince him he wasn’t on one himself, drifting between its little translucent panes.

He watched Sokka clamber down to its silty banks, remove his boots and socks, stash them carefully beyond the water’s reach. Rolling up his pants beyond his knees, he motioned for Zuko to wait. The water was crystal clear and moving briskly, and Zuko didn’t know how, but he could tell just from looking that it must be cold. His suspicions were confirmed a moment later when Sokka ventured into its depths, cursing quietly as the water rose to lap at his ankles, his shins, his knees.

Above him the boughs of the trees wove together in a grand arch. Little gaps of summer sun could just be seen between their lush green leaves, and Zuko was reminded of the intricate tile mosaics of a mosque, or the stained-glass windows of a crumbling cathedral, where several panes had fallen away, letting the light in unencumbered to fall golden and divine on its lone worshiper – Sokka.

By now he had reached the center of the stream, struggling slightly with something he had suspended just below its surface from a branch he had driven into its bottom as an anchor. Zuko settled himself on a downed tree that had fallen over the stream’s edge as he watched, removing his own shoes and socks, and rolling up his pants so he could dangle his tired legs in the water. It was, indeed, cold. But after the hard work of hiking so far in the forest, the cool water felt soothing.

Finally, Sokka succeeded in his struggle, and produced a fine net bag filled with what Zuko could only assume must have been Sokka’s acorns. He held his prize up high for Zuko to see, shouting triumphantly, a wide smile on his face. An image of Sokka as a child, small, round-faced and cheerful, came fully formed into Zuko’s mind, and settled itself without being invited. He needn’t wonder what he had been like then – it was all too clear in the joy he had at his small triumph. But he did wonder what things might have been like for him, had the world not gone so topsy-turvy. If he would be more often like this Sokka, the one here in the forest with him now, and less the guarded, bitter one he had met what felt like so long ago.

He had little time to consider the matter, as Sokka made his way towards him, and Zuko made room beside him on his perch.

“You have to flush out the tannins, before you can eat them. Otherwise, they’re too bitter. I thought, maybe if we just let the stream flow over them, we wouldn’t have to waste any well water doing it.”

Sokka untied the net, offering Zuko a small handful of the pale brown nuts, which he took readily. He sampled one with only a little more hesitance, finding it rather bland, but perfectly edible.

“Well?”

He shrugged. “What’s it supposed to taste like?”

“I – I’m not really sure.” Sokka admitted with an awkward chuckle.

“Well, it doesn’t taste bad, if that’s what you’re after.”  
  


“You sure?”

Zuko grasped Sokka’s hand, flattening out his palm, and tipped a few of the nuts into it. “See for yourself.”

Sokka did, and his experimental crunching was followed by an underwhelmed shrug of his own.

“Okay. Edible. Maybe not super appetizing, but…”

“Yeah. Edible.”

“Yeah.” Another shrug. “It’s the best we could hope for, I guess.”

They sat together, on that log, trading handfuls of the passable brown nuts, until the light began to shift, and the stream began to flow with liquid gold. Sokka tipped his head back, ever so slightly, closing his eyes, letting the sweet summer air wash over him, and sighed. Watching him, adorned with the rich, soft light of the afternoon, taking it all with only a small, satisfied smile, Zuko was thinking he’d have to be careful – he was fairly sure he was starting to like him.

Finally, he spoke.

“You know Zuko? We may not have any use for an accountant. But I think we could do with a poet.”

Yeah. Zuko was _really_ starting to like him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could call this chapter 'watch two guys build a fence for far too long', or maybe 'read yet another description of a river I did, because apparently that's my thing', or even 'good god I can't believe I made them wait two months for this', but I think I'll stick with 'chapter 6'/  
> Hopefully I can get another chapter out before the semester starts up again, but I make no promises. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, as always! And as always, I'd love to here from you, here or on tumblr!


	7. Chapter 7

It was raining. It had been for three days now.

Working in the rain was, at best, unpleasant, and at worst dangerous. And as by now everything was sure to have been thoroughly soaked, then soaked again for good measure, and all that was likely to be accomplished by insisting on stubbornly continuing despite that fact was tracking large amounts of mud into the carefully maintained halls, to the dismay of all who resided there, even Sokka found himself driven inside by the incessant downpour.

The light that was now streaming in through the steamy windows was somewhat muted, but felt warm despite the grey of the clouds through which it filtered. Though, perhaps that warmth had more to do with the company it found inside. Around Sokka sat a mix of people, at tables and on old couches or spread out on the floor, talking in low voices, and busying themselves as best they could. Several of the older women, friends of Sokka’s grandmother, were sewing something out of hide, which had yet to take a shape Sokka could recognize, though he was sure it must be in preparation for the coming winter.

Sokka’s grandmother herself was sitting nearby, surrounded by the few children and their parents that had taken refuge here. She was telling them a story, translated from their native tongue into slightly accented English, but that detail hardly seemed to mater. She was an excellent storyteller, and her audience hung on her words, and Sokka knew from experience she had them right where she wanted them.

He had heard this particular story before in his own youth, so while he let her comforting voice wash over him, he was focused on his own task. He had laid out a blanket of old newspaper into the lid of a cardboard box, with a host of files and rasps set out beside. A piece of stone, slightly larger than a softball, had been laid inside the box, and Sokka was grating carefully away at its edges. A good carving stone like this was hard to come by these days, and Sokka had often thought of smashing up the marble counter tops in the houses of rich neighborhoods to get more that was at least partially suitable – both for the resources and simply for the satisfaction – but it hadn’t quite come to that yet. Still, he wanted to make sure he didn’t make a mistake, and ruin the stone, so his progress had been somewhat slow, and hesitant. Sokka had never felt himself the best carver, but still, he was sure he could see it beginning to take shape.

After some time, Toph sat down beside him, putting her feet up on the table beside his work.

“How’s old Yogi bear coming along?”  
  


“I am _not_ calling him Yogi.” Sokka replied sourly without looking up.

“Alright, well what _are_ you going to call him then?”

Sokka turned the piece of stone over in his hands, considering for a moment. “Smokey?”

“Oh yeah, that’s _so_ much better!”

Sokka snorted.

“We’re very creative, aren’t we?” she said.

“Oh absolutely.”

“Well, _I_ think you should call him Pooh Bear.”

Yue added her voice to the name debate, as she joined them now on Sokka’s other side, bringing with her two cups of rosehip tea, one of which she pushed towards him, and Suki.

“I thought Pooh was a girl bear?”

“And what does that matter?” Suki said.

“I don’t know, I was just pointing it out.”

“Look the point is,” Yue continued, “I just think he looks like a Pooh Bear, don’t you?”

“I think he barely looks like a bear at all.” Sokka muttered glumly.

“Sokka, don’t be so hard on yourself! I think he looks lovely!” Yue assured.

“Let me see!” Toph said, holding out her hands for Sokka’s sculpture. Dutifully, he deposited the roughly sculpted rock in her hands.

“Well, at least I don’t think he looks very much like a bear _yet_. I still have a lot of work to do.”

“Looks like a bear to me.” Toph said with a sly smile.

“And how exactly would you know that?” Sokka had fallen for that one too many times to slip up so easily.

Toph shrugged. “Wrestled one once.”

“I almost believe that,” Suki chuckled.

“Good, you should,” Toph replied curtly, and they all laughed. She handed the sculpture back to Sokka, who took it quickly, giving it a few turns in his hands, examining his progress, and wondering how much of his embarrassment over it was justified, and how much was simply his own insecurities.

As if she could read his thoughts, Yue wrapped a hand around his wrist, brushing the back of his hand with her thumb. “It’s really lovely Sokka,” she murmured, “I think he’s going to turn out perfectly.”

Sometimes he almost believed she could. He had to duck his head to hide his blush of pride in his cup of tea. “Thanks.”

She gave his wrist a reassuring squeeze, and Sokka knew she was smiling at him, though he didn’t look up to see it.

Just then, Suki nudged him under the table with her foot. Seeing she had caught his attention, she nodded towards the door, and grinned. “Here comes trouble.”

Katara and Zuko had just pushed their way through the doors to the dining room. They were smiling, heads close together as they talked to be heard over the other voices in the room. He watched as they helped themselves to hot mugs of tea. He hadn’t yet realized he was smiling too.

“I don’t think Zuko is much trouble,” he responded lamely. Suki and Yue exchanged a look, one that Sokka could never hope to decipher, so he let it pass.

Zuko looked up, and Sokka, pleased to have caught his eye so quickly, waved them over.

“Good news guys!” Katara announced to the group once they arrived, “as of today, it’s been six weeks since Zuko’s knee injury, so I’ve officially given him a clean bill of health!”

A chorus of cheerful congratulations rang out around the table, but Sokka didn’t join in. He suddenly felt a little sick to his stomach.

“You must be happy to hear that, huh Sokka?” Suki said, pulling his mind back to the table. She knew how guilty he had felt about his role in Zuko’s injuries, though he had admitted that to few.

“Yeah. That’s great,” he said, though he didn’t feel it was true somehow. His comment was followed by a long pause, and Sokka felt himself compelled to fill it. “So, I guess that means you can leave now?”

His voice sounded strained even to him.

“I mean, it’s not like you _have_ to leave,” Katara supplied quickly, “I mean sure, if that’s what you _want_ , but we’d love you to stay, and you’re more than welcome to, right Sokka?”

“Yeah, I mean, whatever. Stay, go, do what you like. I don’t care one way or the other, really. If Zuko wants to leave, then I think he should do that.”

The table had fallen suddenly silent. All eyes had turned towards Sokka. Except, notably, Zuko’s.

“Oh. Right.” Zuko replied quietly, gazing at the floor, suddenly looking much stiffer.

“Well, I – I guess I should… I mean I guess I’ll uh… get out of your hair, then.” He turned away quickly, and before anyone could say a word to stop him, he was gone.

Katara’s mouth hung open in shock. Someone kicked Sokka under the table. _Hard._

“What the hell was _that!_ ” Katara yelled.

“What!”

“Sokka, I get that you’re like super emotionally repressed or whatever –“

“I am not!”

“Well then you _certainly_ went _well_ out of your way to make it look like you are! Being super aloof won’t make you look cool, Sokka. You don’t have to pretend you don’t care about him.”

“Yeah, you basically just told him you didn’t care if he lived or died. That was pretty cold, dude.” Toph supplied.

“No I didn’t!” Sokka exclaimed, turning to Yue for reassurance, “right?”

“Well…” He could tell she wanted to ease his mind, but her hesitation was more than enough to tell him what she really thought.

_“Shit.”_ Sokka leaned back in his chair, pulling his fingers through his hair frantically as he went over what he had said in his mind, and realized they might have a point.

“Well don’t just sit there!” Suki exclaimed, pushing his chair out with her foot, “go after him, dummy!”

She gestured wildly at the door, and Sokka felt completely compelled to comply. He sprang up the stairs in twos, hoping he hadn’t missed Zuko yet, and having no idea what to say to him if he _were_ that lucky.

When he reached their room, the door was wide open, and Zuko was just zipping his bag and slinging it onto his shoulder. Spotting Sokka, he frowned slightly and ducked his head again, hair falling from behind his ear into his face.

“Don’t worry, alright? I’m going.”

He tried his best to slip by him, but Sokka stepped into the doorway, bracing his arms against it to block his way.

“Hey.” Zuko, left with little other choice, stopped, raising a brow in question. Sokka hesitated, finding it hard to express what it was he was feeling, or even really to begin understanding it himself. But he figured, he could at least start with an apology. He owed Zuko that much, certainly.

“I – I’m sorry,” he mumbled at length. “I didn’t mean to say what I did just now. I obviously _do_ care what you do, and what happens to you.” Zuko eyed him suspiciously, and made no move to put down his bag and return to business as usual. He appeared to have no intention of letting the matter rest so easily.

“I… I’d like you to stay,” Sokka continued, even more hesitantly than before, acutely aware of how uncomfortable the admission made him. He was not used to being so vulnerable. His voice felt barely strong enough to continue, and he was almost sure it was going to fail him. “If – if that’s what you want, I mean.”

Sokka made himself meet Zuko’s eyes. For a long moment, Zuko simply stared him down, and Sokka readied himself for the inevitable rejection he was sure was coming. But then Zuko smiled, and let out a soft chuckle, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes and thick lashes.

“Wow. That was really hard for you, huh?”

“Shut up!” Sokka whined, giving Zuko a shove for good measure. But they were both smiling now. And while Zuko’s comment did sound a little smug, it was far from rude – rather his voice was rich with fondness, despite, or perhaps _because_ of the gentle, familiar teasing.

“Fine, _I guess_ I’ll stay,” Zuko sighed, tossing his bag down onto the floor next to Sokka’s bed. “But this time, you are getting me a proper place to sleep.”

Sokka laughed.

“I make no promises.”

They stood together in their little cupboard, close enough to hear the other’s breathing, and feeling quite comfortable with that arrangement. Sokka knew he wanted to say more. But he couldn’t for the life of him remember what. Then, suddenly, something else occurred to him.

“Were you really about to run out into a rainstorm with nowhere to go just to spite me?”

“Well, you _said –“_

Sokka’s laugh cut him off.

“God, you are _such_ a drama queen!”

“Shut up! Like you’re one to talk!” And that, Sokka had to admit, was a fair point.

“You know,” Zuko said at length, “I really thought it was going to take me longer to pack. But it turns out, I just don’t own that much stuff.”

Sokka smiled again. “Don’t worry. I think I’ve got more than enough stuff in here for both of us. The next time you try to make your escape, you’re welcome to steal a few things on your way out.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Zuko chuckled, “but hopefully I won’t need to.”

“Yeah.” Sokka agreed. “Hopefully not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well good news everyone, the Mars rover Perseverance has landed safely on Mars! Which is extra good news for me, since it means my research supervisor is too busy to meet this week, so I did this instead of actual work.
> 
> A couple housekeeping things going forward I guess: if any of you have been following this or have read other things I've done, you may have noticed that I just renamed my tumblr blog, so if any if you were confused as to where I went, or who that random person is, don't worry, it's still me. Also, if for some reason you don't want to subscribe to this story on here, but still want to get updates about it, I'll be tagging future tumblr updates with #wtgdlb. I doubt that is any of you, because AO3 updates are both easier and more reliable, I think, but the option is there just in case.
> 
> Anyways, after this we have one more chapter of plain and simple Sokka/Zuko bonding, and then we'll start getting into the more plot relevant, heavier stuff, so prepare yourselves for that I guess :)

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading, and I'd love to hear your thoughts, here or on tumbr @artbymavy!


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